CHAPTER THREE
Maggie scratched on the notepad on her lap. Each time she tried to take notes during this client’s session, her mind wandered to the appointment she had later today.
“Do you think that’s what I should do?”
Shit. What had Steve said? She’d lost focus. Again. She glanced down at the scribbles on her pad where neatly-written sentences should fill the page. Today it was more like chicken scratch and squiggles, but at least she was able to return to the correct train of thought. “It’s more important that you’re happy with your decision than what I think about it. I can’t live your life for you. So what do you think?”
That worked. She sounded like a competent professional.
This couldn’t keep happening. She’d been fine for the last month since she’d taken those blasted tests. Yeah, she probably should have made an appointment as soon as she’d gotten the positive pregnancy test. She could rationalize a thousand reasons why she hadn’t scheduled anything before now, but all of them were crap. If she didn’t go to the doctor, her pregnancy wasn’t real, and she’d wanted that extra little bit of denial to hang onto.
But as soon as she’d booked her first OB appointment, she’d started spacing out. Sure, she had a lot on her mind, but no one wanted an absent-minded shrink who couldn’t keep up with a simple conversation.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. Thanks, Dr. James. Talking to you really helps.”
The buzzer sounded. Thank God. “Well, that’s all the time we have for today. See you next week?”
“Definitely.”
Maggie extended her hand to shake Steve’s. He hesitated a moment then clasped her hands. His shook but he squeezed her hand and threw her a gentle smile.
Steve released her and hustled out. Maggie shut the door behind him, rounded her desk, and lowered herself into her chair. Her gut roiled and her mouth watered. Crackers, crackers, where had she hidden those crackers? She ripped opened drawer after drawer until she found the elusive box, snatched two out, and shoved them in her mouth. She didn’t move, her hands pressed onto her desk, until the churning stilled.
She glanced at her watch. She had thirty minutes before she’d be propped up, feet in the stirrups, for her first appointment with the obstetrician.
The constant vomiting and the fact that she’d fallen asleep at her desk three times in the past two weeks wasn’t easy to ignore. At least she hadn’t had to resort to wearing the maternity clothes Cheryl had sent. Maggie was still wearing her regular suits and her stiletto heels that made her feel powerful each time she stepped into them. She loved her high heels, that’s for sure.
After making a few notes about Steve’s session in her journal, she collected her bag and headed down the stairs. She stepped into the brisk cold, the wind whipping through her hair, and pulled the sides of her coat closed. Just then, someone called her name.
“Dr. James,” Michael’s sister yelled as she ran up to Maggie.
Maggie brushed her hands down her front. Could Rachel tell Maggie was pregnant? No, despite the fact that the pregnancy was always on her mind, she wasn’t showing yet.
“Hey, Rachel. How’re you doing today?” There, that sounded pleasant enough.
“I’m doing good. Really good, actually.” Rachel had escaped an explosive relationship this past summer and had landed in Maggie’s office. Rachel didn’t know about Maggie’s relationship with Michael—if you could call it a relationship.
Part of why Maggie had tucked all reminders of her pregnancy in the back of her mind was because the baby was bound to change things between her and Michael.
Her stomach churned and she huffed, her breath swirling around in the cold air. She pressed her hand over her belly. Now was not the time to get sick. That would raise questions she wasn’t ready to answer, especially with someone in Michael’s family.
“Listen, Rachel, I’d love to stay and chat, but I was just on my way to an appointment.”
“That’s not a problem. I just wanted to say hi and let you know I’m going to call the office to reschedule my next appointment.”
“Is everything all right? If you need something sooner, I can make arrangements.”
If anything, the smile on Rachel’s face grew bigger. “Oh, no. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just going to be helping my brother Michael get settled in his new house. He bought the cutest little cottage right around the corner from Lucas and Sarah.”
Maggie’s heart stopped. Could a person die of a heart attack at thirty-five? Because if that was possible, she was having one. Right now. ... ... ...
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